(Insider alert: the House is offering two-to-one on the money!)
Dear Gentle Readers,
Even though $5,000 could be in play here, this is probably one of the more scatterbrained posts you’ll read today. Sorry! That being said …
A couple of pals - - well, four actually - - have mentioned that a few of you more dubious posters have voiced some rather ill-mannered suspicions about me. Translation: am I really a girl?
Yes, I am.
Care to bet? That I’m not?
I will agree that gender-doubts can be kind of understandable. There really aren’t that many girls in the world of pool compared to, well, boys.
(Also, there does seem to be a rather robust contingent of hustlers, scammers, scalawags, cheaters, gonifs, liars, fraudsters, con artists, swindlers, and other sketchy types in our fascinating little demi-monde. Ergo, some of you could - - perhaps reasonably - - conclude that I’m not over-burdened with the truth.)
Well, let’s find out!
So … how, precisely, would my Sunny-is-really-the-girl-she-claims-to-be wager unfold?
Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!
I’ll attempt to demonstrate that I was born - - and jauntily remain! - - female. And, I’ll try to substantiate said claims.
Your only contribution to this modest endeavor is to back up your rather churlish allegations with your billfold. I cheerfully invite you to commit to a wager on the subject. A significant (to me, anyway!) wager. Please do try to remember that the money is two-to-one in your favor!
Am I willing to bet it up?
Short answer: yes.
Sitrep: I’ve been pretty fortunate over the past nine-plus years. I’ve had a rather jolly sprint with my little consulting business. I now have three offices: NYC, San Francisco and Hong Kong. (Okay, Hong Kong is still in an investment posture, but it’s inching closer to break-even.)
My banker - - and she’s no pushover! - - has outlined a few simple parameters regarding my proposal:
1) Minimum commitment? From you?
A coolio round number of $5,000. Double that from me and it would come to … well, you can probably math it out!
2) Money guarantee?
As charming as the ‘post it over the light’ custom may be, my banker suggests a more traditional habitat. The week any one of you Doubting Tommys places your 5 gees in a secured Citi escrow account, my $10,000 will follow. Neither deposit would be in play until both sums are posted.
Naturellement, there would be a few tedious details necessary to safeguard our mutual investments. My banker will share with your banker the minutiae of the legal and fiscal covenants.
3) Proof of gender?
I’ll do a FaceTime chat with you. Don’t have an Apple device? I’ll spring for one. (Well, after your escrow deposit clears. And mine.) Skype? Hmm, no … let’s stay with a native Apple app.
Put up $10,000? Or more? I’ll fly you and the companion of your preference to NYC or San Francisco or Hong Kong (your choice of the city, my choice of the date), en-suite you in style and treat you to one of the finest dégustation menus of your life. Accompanied, natch, by pairings of sommelier-blessed wines. Woo-woo!
4) Further authentication?
My attorney - - okay, she’s actually a paralegal pal who works in my dad’s firm - - will provide documentation through that same Citi escrow account.
You and your legal agent will have visual access to copies of my birth certificate, state photo ID (so I don’t have a drivers license, so bite me!), education credentials starting with The Spence School and continuing through a couple of Seven Sisters institutions.
Plus certified affidavits from … well, from almost anyone your attorney thinks is reasonably appropriate to the mission. (Q: Do you really wanna go head-to-head with my mom? A: No, probably not.)
5) Altruism?
My winnings will go to an NYC shelter for women and children which my family supports. Since it’s a 501(c)(3) organization, you’ll receive the documentation necessary to qualify for a tax-deductible contribution to this eminently worthwhile organization.
If you win (heh heh), do whatever you want with the loot!
6) Reality slap?
Ow! My cheek!
Do I, in my most fevered of fever dreams, actually expect any of you laddies to step up? Nope. Wish you would, really wish you would. But … nope.
Chin up … merrily trying to meet and exceed expectations is my life,
Sunny
P. S. I was told that one poster, apparently pleased with himself, asked whether I sported boxers or briefs. Friendly suggestion? You might want to consider gingerly dipping your toe into the lifestream of our current millennium … girls have been wearing both for quite some time.
You are most welcome.
P. P. S. Someone else - - a long time ago and I can’t remember exactly who he was - - promised to kiss my butt (ew!) in public (double ew!) if I am, in fact, a girl. Sir … you are hereby legally, morally, ethically and enthusiastically relieved of said obligation.
Whew!
P. P. P. S. You professional gamblers - - you real gamblers out there - - can tell me … have I overplayed my hand? Is $5,000 too much? Does it seem like a faux offer to discourage responders? Should I have started smaller and tried to up the bet? My amateurish thinking was that several boys could pool their resources if no singleton would step up.
Or … is $5,000 so insignificant that it’s hardly worth a major player’s time? I started with $20,000 in mind, tiptoed it down to $10,000 and somehow ended up with $5,000.
Finally … does my proposal seem a bit needy? Too eager?
Okay … yes, my life is a bit out of sync these days. I used to have a perfectly fine boyfriend, now I don’t. But I will, one of these days soon, regain my equilibrium.
All of the above doubts being noted, the wager is still sur la table.
Sunny. A girl.
Dear Gentle Readers,
Even though $5,000 could be in play here, this is probably one of the more scatterbrained posts you’ll read today. Sorry! That being said …
A couple of pals - - well, four actually - - have mentioned that a few of you more dubious posters have voiced some rather ill-mannered suspicions about me. Translation: am I really a girl?
Yes, I am.
Care to bet? That I’m not?
I will agree that gender-doubts can be kind of understandable. There really aren’t that many girls in the world of pool compared to, well, boys.
(Also, there does seem to be a rather robust contingent of hustlers, scammers, scalawags, cheaters, gonifs, liars, fraudsters, con artists, swindlers, and other sketchy types in our fascinating little demi-monde. Ergo, some of you could - - perhaps reasonably - - conclude that I’m not over-burdened with the truth.)
Well, let’s find out!
So … how, precisely, would my Sunny-is-really-the-girl-she-claims-to-be wager unfold?
Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!
I’ll attempt to demonstrate that I was born - - and jauntily remain! - - female. And, I’ll try to substantiate said claims.
Your only contribution to this modest endeavor is to back up your rather churlish allegations with your billfold. I cheerfully invite you to commit to a wager on the subject. A significant (to me, anyway!) wager. Please do try to remember that the money is two-to-one in your favor!
Am I willing to bet it up?
Short answer: yes.
Sitrep: I’ve been pretty fortunate over the past nine-plus years. I’ve had a rather jolly sprint with my little consulting business. I now have three offices: NYC, San Francisco and Hong Kong. (Okay, Hong Kong is still in an investment posture, but it’s inching closer to break-even.)
My banker - - and she’s no pushover! - - has outlined a few simple parameters regarding my proposal:
1) Minimum commitment? From you?
A coolio round number of $5,000. Double that from me and it would come to … well, you can probably math it out!
2) Money guarantee?
As charming as the ‘post it over the light’ custom may be, my banker suggests a more traditional habitat. The week any one of you Doubting Tommys places your 5 gees in a secured Citi escrow account, my $10,000 will follow. Neither deposit would be in play until both sums are posted.
Naturellement, there would be a few tedious details necessary to safeguard our mutual investments. My banker will share with your banker the minutiae of the legal and fiscal covenants.
3) Proof of gender?
I’ll do a FaceTime chat with you. Don’t have an Apple device? I’ll spring for one. (Well, after your escrow deposit clears. And mine.) Skype? Hmm, no … let’s stay with a native Apple app.
Put up $10,000? Or more? I’ll fly you and the companion of your preference to NYC or San Francisco or Hong Kong (your choice of the city, my choice of the date), en-suite you in style and treat you to one of the finest dégustation menus of your life. Accompanied, natch, by pairings of sommelier-blessed wines. Woo-woo!
4) Further authentication?
My attorney - - okay, she’s actually a paralegal pal who works in my dad’s firm - - will provide documentation through that same Citi escrow account.
You and your legal agent will have visual access to copies of my birth certificate, state photo ID (so I don’t have a drivers license, so bite me!), education credentials starting with The Spence School and continuing through a couple of Seven Sisters institutions.
Plus certified affidavits from … well, from almost anyone your attorney thinks is reasonably appropriate to the mission. (Q: Do you really wanna go head-to-head with my mom? A: No, probably not.)
5) Altruism?
My winnings will go to an NYC shelter for women and children which my family supports. Since it’s a 501(c)(3) organization, you’ll receive the documentation necessary to qualify for a tax-deductible contribution to this eminently worthwhile organization.
If you win (heh heh), do whatever you want with the loot!
6) Reality slap?
Ow! My cheek!
Do I, in my most fevered of fever dreams, actually expect any of you laddies to step up? Nope. Wish you would, really wish you would. But … nope.
Chin up … merrily trying to meet and exceed expectations is my life,
Sunny
P. S. I was told that one poster, apparently pleased with himself, asked whether I sported boxers or briefs. Friendly suggestion? You might want to consider gingerly dipping your toe into the lifestream of our current millennium … girls have been wearing both for quite some time.
You are most welcome.
P. P. S. Someone else - - a long time ago and I can’t remember exactly who he was - - promised to kiss my butt (ew!) in public (double ew!) if I am, in fact, a girl. Sir … you are hereby legally, morally, ethically and enthusiastically relieved of said obligation.
Whew!
P. P. P. S. You professional gamblers - - you real gamblers out there - - can tell me … have I overplayed my hand? Is $5,000 too much? Does it seem like a faux offer to discourage responders? Should I have started smaller and tried to up the bet? My amateurish thinking was that several boys could pool their resources if no singleton would step up.
Or … is $5,000 so insignificant that it’s hardly worth a major player’s time? I started with $20,000 in mind, tiptoed it down to $10,000 and somehow ended up with $5,000.
Finally … does my proposal seem a bit needy? Too eager?
Okay … yes, my life is a bit out of sync these days. I used to have a perfectly fine boyfriend, now I don’t. But I will, one of these days soon, regain my equilibrium.
All of the above doubts being noted, the wager is still sur la table.
Sunny. A girl.